


Sky of the Sky

by duesternis



Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M, Pillow Talk, Poetry reading, hugs and kisses, like technically at least
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:21:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26755726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/duesternis/pseuds/duesternis
Summary: Edward nodded and closed the door again. Thomas heard him hum and grinned, pulling the sweatpants on.His favourite pair, with the hole in the pocket.And his favourite jumper from the good old university days. Edward's that was.Trust Edward to know just what to bring him after a rough day. Thomas lifted the jumper to his face and inhaled.Smelled like Edward.Like home.
Relationships: Thomas Jopson/Lt Edward Little
Comments: 12
Kudos: 17
Collections: The Joplittle Fall Fic Exchange 2020





	Sky of the Sky

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lafiametta](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lafiametta/gifts).



> First time taking part in an exchange and I'm very grateful to the folks organizing it, it was very smooth sailing.
> 
> I hope you like it, dear lafiametta!!
> 
> the poem at the end of the fic is [i carry your heart with me(i carry it in] by e.e. cummings, which also lend me the title.

Somehow, after a long week and an exhausting day, it seemed as if the stairs leading up to the flat multiplied.  
As if his bag was suddenly filled with bricks and his bones were lead.  
The nice lady from 4A waved at him and he managed nothing more than a tired smile, pulling himself up the stairs with the help of the banister.  
The cheerful doormat he’d picked out right after moving in did nothing for his mood and he sighed, fumbling his keys out of his pocket.

He missed the keyhole twice and dropped the keychain.  
When he tried a third time to unlock the door it opened under his hand.  
Thomas stared dumbly at the naked feet on the other side of the threshold. Up the stretch of dark sweatpants and a blue t-shirt.  
Dark beard, dark eyes, untidy hair.  
Handsome, handsome smile.  
"Hello, Tom."

Thomas made a weak sound in the back of his throat and dropped into Edward’s waiting arms.  
Mumbled a _"hello"_ into Edward’s shoulder and shuffled into the flat. The door fell closed and Thomas dropped his bag.  
His shoulder popped and he groaned, lifting his arms around Edward’s waist.  
Anything else would be too much.  
"Rough day?"  
"Ugh, please don’t ask."  
Edward chuckled softly and helped Thomas out of his jacket. The flat smelled like spices. Edward smelled like spices and onion.  
Thomas pressed his cold nose into Edward's clavicle, chasing the scent he took a deep breath and exhaled against the skin.  
Edward shivered and rubbed a hand over Thomas‘ spine.  
"Did you cook?", Thomas asked Edward’s adam’s apple and watched it bop with a swallow.  
"Curry. Are you hungry?"

"Famished. I had to cut my lunch break short, because of a fucking shit storm I had to sort out. Seems no one else in that office has their head screwed on right."  
Edward put his warm, heavy hand back on Thomas‘ spine and pressed a kiss to his forehead. Thomas toed his shoes off, arms still looped around Edward’s waist.  
"Do you want to take a shower before we eat, Tom?"  
He sighed and leaned back a bit, looking at Edward. The earnest stroke of his eyebrows, the little smile tucked into the corner of his mouth.  
Thomas kissed him.  
"Yeah, I’m gonna take a shower. Won’t be long."  
He kissed him again and then pulled his tie loose, stepping out of Edward’s embrace.  
"Ten minutes."  
"Ten minutes, Tom."  
They both walked backwards, Edward into the kitchen, Thomas towards the bathroom, hands touching for as long as they could.  
Then Thomas turned, flicking the lights on, and slipped into the bathroom.

He took a long hard look at himself in the mirror.  
Five o’clock shadow made his skin look grey and the bags under his eyes pop in the worst way possible.  
His hair looked a fright and he could smell the tube on himself. Cold cigarette smoke, too many people with failing deodorant and too much perfume. Wet dog and old kebap. It made for a heady mix and Thomas was desperate to get rid of it.  
He turned the shower on, letting the water heat while he further contemplated the wrinkles on his forehead. Prodded the sagging skin under his eyes.  
Thomas knew he wasn’t a tween anymore, but today he looked rather closer to forty than he was comfortable with.  
With a hard sigh he peeled his clothes off his back, tossing them into the hamper.  
One of Edward’s hoodies hung over the radiator and Thomas leaned his forehead against the soft cotton for a long moment.  
It smelled a bit like Edward still.  
The shower provided adequate white noise and he shivered, feet bare on the tiles.  
So what if he was getting older? So what if there was grey in his beard and the few grey hairs on his head were grouping together to try and form streaks?  
Everyone got older.

It was natural that he didn’t see the spry, baby-faced twenty-something Tom in the mirror any longer.  
And Edward loved him at thirty-three the same he had loved him at twenty-five.  
Maybe even better.  
He squared his shoulders, touched the hoodie and inhaled sharply.  
So there was really no reason to worry about any of this.  
Edward was waiting for him with dinner.  
Thomas climbed into the shower, pulled the curtain closed and popped his neck under the drum of the hot water on his skin.  
If he strained his ears he could hear Edward sing along to the music he was playing in the kitchen and Thomas didn’t want to stop the smile splitting his face in two, so he didn’t.  
He shampooed his hair, soaped himself up and let the water then beat every trace of the day off his skin.  
Thomas sniffed his arm, getting a nose full of water and no hint of old kepab.  
Good enough. He turned the shower off and wrangled with the shower curtain, before sinking his toes in the bath mat.  
Wrapped himself in a big fluffy towel with a sigh and combed his wet hair just as he liked it. The mirror was half fogged and the ventilator turned noisily, doing its best to suck some moisture out of the small room.  
There was a tap at the door and then Edward poked his head in.  
Thomas tucked his dripping hair behind his ear.

"Do you need some sweatpants? I brought you a pair."  
"Oh! Thanks, Ned," Thomas quickly stepped up to the door and kissed Edward’s cheek, taking the bundle of clothes from his hands.  
"And the table is set, so feel free to join me at your leisure."  
Thomas stomach made it known that now would be a good time to join Edward at the table and they both laughed.  
"Only a moment, alright? I’ll dry up and get dressed."  
"Sure. Should I open a bottle of wine?"  
"Would you? I’d love that."  
Edward nodded and closed the door again. Thomas heard him hum and grinned, pulling the sweatpants on.  
His favourite pair, with the hole in the pocket.  
And his favourite jumper from the good old university days. Edward's that was.  
Trust Edward to know just what to bring him after a rough day. Thomas lifted the jumper to his face and inhaled.  
Smelled like Edward.  
Like home.

He was still pulling it into place when he joined Edward in the kitchen.  
"Hey."  
"Hey yourself," Edward said without looking up from dishing the rice. With a concentrated frown he added the curry and handed the plate off to Thomas with a proud little smile.  
It smelled delicious.  
Thomas stole a kiss and Edward blinked, quietly surprised and very much pleased. His ears were red.  
"Thank you for dinner, darling."  
"Sure. Wine’s on the table, Tom."  
Edward filled his own plate, turned the burners off and together they sat down.  
There was a candle and soft music. Thomas put his feet atop Edward’s.  
"You didn’t bring me socks."  
Edward smiled and poured them both a glass of wine. He wriggled his toes against Thomas' feet, making him laugh.  
"Maybe all part of my nefarious plan."  
"Nefarious plan! Good Lord! I’m living with a scoundrel."  
"Quite so, Mr Jopson. You let a scoundrel into your life and now you shall have to deal with the consequences."  
Thomas smoothed his spoon over his curry and grinned at Edward.  
"What a shame, when the consequences are home-cooked dinners and the best boyfriend one could ask for."  
Edward laughed, ears peeking red through his wild hair. He needed a trim, but Thomas was very fond of the shagginess, he had to confess.  
It reminded him of a teddy or large dog. Soft and warm and perfect for cuddling.  
He ate, sneaking glances at Edward from time to time. Almost always finding him already looking, eyes so warm that Thomas felt like a cat in a sunbeam.  
Still, after all these years, it was something that made Thomas‘ heart soar and swell.  
They finished their dinner in companionable silence, the music softly washing the room in sound.

"That was very good, Edward," Thomas said afterwards, swirling his wine in his glass, the plates already stacked.  
Edward sipped his wine and nudged Thomas‘ feet under the table. Thomas easily lifted them into Edward’s lap, where one ankle was immediately wrapped in Edward’s warm palm.  
They’d bought a narrow dinner table for that purpose and for holding hands while eating sandwiches.  
Now the day was truly done.  
Thomas was warm and heavy, belly full, wine rich on his tongue, Edward’s touch on his bare skin the best thing he had ever known.  
"Got a call today, Le Vesconte invited us to his New Year’s eve party."  
Thomas cradled his glass against his chest. Lifted one eyebrow, trying to keep from grinning. It was a typical Henry thing to invite people for New Year’s eve month before the date.  
"It’s September."  
"He’s been planning it since February, he said. But people don’t take it seriously when he invites them more than four months in advance."  
"I barely ever take the man seriously as is."  
Thomas cherished Edward’s little laugh and the adorable crow’s feet around his eyes.  
"Is it a costume party again?"  
"Probably. He said a real written invite with more details would follow. So yeah. I bet there’s gonna be a theme again, and appropriate costuming would be much appreciated by all attending."  
Edward tapped his thumb against Thomas‘ ankle, topping his glass off. He wiped the droplet of wine running down the neck of the bottle with his thumb, sucking it off the skin.  
His eyebrows were knitting themselves tighter than that atrocious scarf Thomas had attempted for Edward that first Christmas they had spent together.

"Don’t fret, darling," Thomas said and rubbed his toes against Edward’s arm. "We’ll figure something out when we get the invite. And if we don’t want to go, we won’t. Your sisters, or Francis would have us, no doubt. Or we spend the day holed up here."  
Edward nodded, thumb still tapping at Thomas‘ skin. But his brows started unraveling slowly.  
Another push was needed. Something sweet to prompt him out of it.  
Thomas had just the thing.  
"I saw John today at work," he said and took a sip of his wine.  
That got Edward out of his reverie.  
"John Irving?"  
"The very same."  
"I’d heard he was back from Australia. What did he say?"  
"Not much. Hello. He was wearing a ring."  
"Married?"  
Thomas shrugged and sipped his wine, letting Edward fill the glass again.  
"Maybe. Maybe only engaged. People nowadays don’t really bother with wearing the rings a special way. Could have been fashionable too. Or maybe a promise ring or something."  
Edward laughed, leaning forward.  
"Was it gold or silver?"  
"Silver, simple, but i think there was an etching on it. We should get together with him for dinner or something."  
"That would be nice. I haven’t spoken to him in person in years. And you know i’m a bad texter."  
"Oh, I remember your texts, yes."  
Vividly so.

Edward cringed, ears red again. "Yeah, well. You still went out with me."  
"Despite of the texts, not because of them, Mr Edward Little."  
"Don’t remind me."  
"Who ends texts with that? 'Regards, Edward Little', honestly?"  
"I pre-wrote that in my e-mail app."  
Thomas snorted into his wine and banged his knee on the table.  
"Why, in God’s name, would you do that? Pre-writing texts, alright. But in the mail-app?"  
Edward’s helpless shrug was so forceful he almost sloshed wine over his hand and Thomas laughed. Couldn’t help it.  
He pulled Edward’s hand over the table and lifted it to his mouth, laughing against the knuckles for a moment.  
Then he kissed them.  
Edward gently knuckled Thomas‘ chin when Thomas let go of his hand again and smiled.  
They sipped their wine, the music came to its natural conclusion at the end of the CD. Edward stuck a finger under the hem of Thomas‘ sweatpants and rubbed his ankle warmly.

"Wanna head to the couch, Tom?"  
Thomas stretched his toes and finished his glass of wine. Yawned.  
"I think I’d rather already curl up in bed. My back won’t thank me, if I fall asleep on the couch again."  
"Yeah, same actually. Let me just clean up in the kitchen a bit, and then I’ll join you in bed."  
Thomas pulled his feet from Edward’s lap and got up, taking the dirty plates up.  
"You made dinner, you don’t have to clean up, darling. You get ready for bed, I’ll clean up."  
Edward sniffed and stood too.  
"Let’s do it together then. It’s quicker that way too."  
He grabbed the almost empty wine bottle and the two empty glasses, passing Thomas with a fond smile.  
"I love you, Edward Little."  
Edward looked at him over his shoulder and smiled. Soft and warm and huge.  
Like his heart.  
"I love you too, Thomas Jopson."

Together they cleaned the kitchen up in a few minutes and Thomas dressed down for bed and already slid under the covers of their bed, mug of tea on the nightstand.  
Edward was taking a quick shower, the splashing and little bursts of humming a comfort through the wall, while Thomas read a bit, idly, leisurely, toes curled against the soft sheets.  
Half a page later Edward slipped in, turned the overhead lights off and crawled under the sheets.  
Thomas‘ nightstand lamp illuminated the room in a soft glow.  
"Hello," Edward said, cheek cradled in his palm, turned to Thomas. His hair was still wet, but brushed.  
"Hello," Thomas answered and took a sip of his tea.  
Edward smoothed a finger down Thomas‘ arm to the corner of his book.  
"What are you reading?"  
"Assorted poetry."  
"Gift from John Bridgens for your birthday, right?"  
"It was, yes."  
"Read to me?"  
"A poem?"  
Edward nodded and scooted closer, resting his cheek on the edge of Thomas‘ pillow. His eyes were huge and dark, glimmering in the low light and Thomas trailed a finger down his straight, proud nose. Tapped against his bow-lips and then scritched Edward’s shower-soft beard.  
Like a great shaggy dog he lifted his head into the carress and made a deep, happy sound in his chest.  
"Any poem?"  
"A favourite of yours," Edward said, eyes closed, and Thomas felt his voice vibrate against his fingertips.  
He smiled and kissed Edward’s brow.  
Flipped a few pages further into the book and cleared his throat.  
Edward chuckled and kissed Thomas‘ arm.

 _"I carry your heart with me,"_ Thomas read and Edward made a choked little noise, breath hot against Thomas‘ skin.  
Thomas smiled and went on: _"I carry it in my heart."_  
_"I am never without it,"_ Edward breathed against Thomas‘ arm and Thomas felt his heart do a little jump.  
_"Anywhere I go you go, my dear; and whatever is done by only me is your doing, my darling."_  
_"I fear,"_ Edward said and Thomas squeezed his furred thigh warmly under the blanket.  
Edward smiled.  
_"I fear no fate,"_ Thomas went on, _"For you are my fate, my sweet."_

Edward stretched up and kissed Thomas‘ cheek. Said "I love you," against his skin and Thomas chuckled, closing the book around his thumb.  
"Do you know the poem by heart?"  
"I do. My favourite at school."  
"Cummings?"  
"Yes."  
"I haven’t read much of his work, actually. But I do like this one." Thomas kissed Edward’s brow. "Made me think of you."  
"Oh."  
"Indeed, oh." He sipped his tea and Edward stole the mug, taking a swig himself. He reached over Thomas to set it down again.  
His arm stayed draped over Thomas‘ middle, pressing the book into his stomach.  
Thomas didn’t mind.  
He couldn’t mind anything that brought Edward so close to him. Pressed together from head to toe.

"I want to be buried like this," Thomas said quietly, hands folded over the book, Edward’s head in the crook of his shoulder.  
"That’s a long time away, yet, Tom. I want to marry you first. Go on holidays together and get old and cranky."  
"I found more grey on my head."  
Edward sighed and pushed himself up on his elbow, hand moving up to splay on Thomas‘ chest.  
"So?"  
Thomas looked at the mug, tea cold inside it and put the book next to it. He smiled and tucked his hair behind his ear, shaking his head a bit.  
"It’s stupid."  
"Tom, no, please tell me. It’s not stupid, if it worries you."  
The concern was a palpable thing in Edward's gruff voice and Thomas sighed, hands smoothing the sheets.  
"Oh, Edward." Dear, dear Edward, with his dear little frown and his dear, earnest eyes.  
Thomas licked his lips and turned on his side, so he and Edward were two commas, facing each other under the safety of the sheets.

"I’m just vain. Worried to turn old and grey and uninteresting."  
"I’ll still love you when you’re old and grey and the only hobby you have is watching stupid daytime telly, Thomas."  
Edward cupped Thomas‘ cheek in a warm palm and kissed his forehead gently.  
"I’ll hold your wrinkly hand, sitting in the park, and I’ll share the bathroom with you as readily as I do now. I’ll stare at your arse still and I’ll think you the most amazing man I’ve ever met. I’ll dance badly with you in the kitchen and I’ll still put too much sugar in the porridge for your taste."  
Thomas laughed and kissed Edward. Squeezed his hand and scooted closer.  
"You’ll have diabetes when we’re old and wrinkly, what with the amount of sugar you eat. Diabetes and fake teeth in a glass."  
Edward grinned and pulled Thomas against his chest. His beard was soft and warm at Thomas‘ temple.  
Thomas closed his eyes and inhaled the scent of Edward’s bodywash from his clavicle.  
Home.

"You said you want to marry me."  
Edward stiffened and awkwardly cleared his throat. Sounded a bit like a cat trying to spit out a ball of hair.  
"Only if you wouldn’t be opposed to the idea." Edward tapped a quick staccato against Thomas‘ spine. "And please don’t think that this is the actual proposal or anything, I don’t even have a ring yet, Thomas."  
"Oh, Edward!"  
Thomas rolled them around, pillowing his chin on Edward’s chest, grinning like a mad man.  
His heart felt close to bursting.  
A real ring!  
Even as a boy Thomas had never entertained the idea of someone actually putting a ring on his finger.  
And here Edward was.  
Apologizing and babbling about rings and proposals and marrying him.  
Thomas listened and watched until Edward stuttered to a halt in the middle of a sentence.  
"Am I annoying you? God, I didn’t even wait for you to say if you wanted to marry anyone, much less me."  
"Shh, Edward," Thomas murmured, to stop Edward in the tracks of the next ramble, and kissed him, gently tugged on his beard, the sideburns, his thick hair.  
Thomas wouldn’t mind crawling inside of Edward’s ribcage and be completely surrounded by him.  
Wouldn’t mind being carried in Edward’s heart.

"I love you," he whispered into Edward’s mouth and Edward made that choked noise again, eyes closed tightly.  
"I’ll marry you," Thomas said and smiled as Edward shivered against him like a reed in the wind. "I’ll marry you every day for the rest of my life, Edward. Every day."  
"Let me get a ring for you first, please."  
Thomas laughed, surprised to find his eyes wet and his hands shaking in Edward’s hair.  
"Sure. Anything."  
Edward smiled, broad and sunny and Thomas sank into his embrace like a ship to the ocean floor.  
Finally resting, safe and sheltered.  
Held.  
Cherished.  
Loved.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading, pls leave a comment or sth.  
> find me on tumblr under the same name


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